


The Great Smog

by AliceMarylin1999



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 1950s, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Sweet, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 14:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20448533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceMarylin1999/pseuds/AliceMarylin1999
Summary: During the days of a Great Smog in London Crowley comes to Aziraphale's bookshop to wait out the disaster. The two are locked up together and finally have time to talk heart to heart and not worry about anyone watching them. Crowley mentioned his human friends he had in Germany in the beginning of 30s and how their death affected him.By the end of the smoke they share some tender moments with each other.





	The Great Smog

Aziraphale looked out of the window of his bookshop, but all he saw was greenish brown mess. The same sickening mess for some days now. The smog around London started a day ago, but it has already turned to a disaster. Hundreds of people were dead, all the public transport was paralyzed, and all Aziraphale could do was to sit alone in his bookshop and listen to the ticking of a clock.

He wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t. He was anxious for no apparent reason and felt trapped and alone in his bookshop, while normally he would’ve stayed there for days, studying some old rare edition of medieval epos and drinking fine black tea.

Something was disturbing his soul. Something dark and throbbing and tightening. Longing. Yearning. Despair. Limerence.

He was drowsing in an armchair, when he heard a rather aggressive knocking on a front door

\- Why on Earth… - Aziraphale started muttering, hurrying to open the door. “Someone might have become sick and asks for rescue” – he thought, as he opened the door.

There was someone – a very special someone.

Crowley.

\- Get me inside, angel, unless you want that reeking smoke all over your bookshop. – Crowley said in a low voice, covering his mouth with his scarf.

Aziraphale quickly closed the door and helped Crowley take his coat off. He glanced at him – Crowley was as handsome and elegant as ever, his hair was longer than the last time Aziraphale saw him and was now lying in beautiful red waves almost reaching his shoulders, his skin was glowing and white apart from the lovely freckles on his nose and cheekbones – but the beauty of his appearance was overshadowed by a repelling smell coming from him.

\- Yes, I know what you think, angel. – Crowley said. – I though it would be fitting, smelling of smoke, I’m a demon, after all… But this – ugh, Hell doesn’t smell of cheap coal! This, this is humiliating.

\- What were you doing outdoors, anyway? – Aziraphale tried to sound instructively, though it was hard for him to hide how utterly happy he was that Crowley happened to appear at his doorstep.

\- Agh, it’s nothing interesting. I thought I could do some business, but I hardly walked a couple of blocks. I thought I could manage it, you see. The smoke. I’ve been too self-assured, I have to admit. But I remembered a way to your bookshop, angel. – Crowley’s voice seemed to warm a little when he said that. – And I decided to save myself from further… Humiliation. I’ll wait here, if you don’t mind.

\- Oh, I won’t, of course – Aziraphale assured him.

\- This government… - Crowley clenched his teeth in rancor – First they burn this trash coil, now they do nothing…

\- Crowley, please. What can I do to help you?

\- Oh, I don’t know. – Crowley sighed, looking at himself. – I fear this suit is beyond any… Earthly repair. And my hair, my hair stinks. Look. Angel. I know this is embarrassing, but… You have a small flat upstairs, right?

\- Th-that’s right, Crowley. – Aziraphale suddenly felt a strike of panic. – What do you need?

\- What I need is a bath and a change of clothes. I don’t want to do any miracles here, angel. I might be watched and miracles attract attention. It’s probably nothing, but still… Don’t want to get you in trouble. Can I do that? Take a bath and then change into something of yours?

\- Oh, of course. But my clothes… Will be too loose for you. And a bit too short, probably. And it’s almost emtirely creamy beige and light blue and tartan…

\- Angel. – Crowley stopped him. - It’s fine. Any fresh clothes are perfect at this moment. I’ll be grateful.

***

After about two hours, as Aziraphale was waiting downstairs, trying really hard to pretend he was reading, Crowley came down. Aziraphale looked at him, and, stunned, couldn’t say a word.

\- What? – he heard Crowley saying.

Crowley was, at last, without his dark glasses, his hair wet, and he was wearing beige trousers rolled up at his ankles and tightened with a belt – “_Is my waist THAT large or is he THAT thin?”_ – and a white shirt way too big for him, with his sleeves rolled up carelessly.

\- You look so different dressed in light colors – Aziraphale managed to say.

\- Don’t expect to see me like that again. – Crowley answered with a smirk – But I do like the quality of your stuff. Very smooth and comfy. Are you in a middle of something? Am I bothering you?

\- No, no, no, of course not – Aziraphale closed his book and put it away quickly. – Should I make some tea? I also have some cognac and brandy. And muffins. And…

\- I’d love anything right now. Tea, brandy, cake, whatever you will. But show me where…

\- Of course, of course. – Aziraphale answered nervously. – Let me show you where I have my little recreational spot…

\- Recreational spot? – Crowley said, teasingly. – I like that. I thought your entire life here on Earth is recreational, it’s not that you enjoy working hard… Oh, a nice couch. I like couches. I’ll lie down for a while, if you don’t mind.

As soon as Crowley spotted a comfortable place to stretch out, he jumped there, immediately taking as much space as he possibly could. “He always does that” – Aziraphale thought, - “How I love looking at him being so relaxed”.

Aziraphale knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn’t help but look at Crowley’s forearm, which he had never seen being bare before. His wrist was thin, so thin Aziraphale thought he could wrap his hand around it, and the inner side of his forearm was snow-white, his skin so thin that one could see his veins, like tiny blue streams entangling his whole arm. The outer side of his forearm was covered with charming light-brown freckles, the same as those on his face. “He is so delicate, so fragile. There’s nothing demonic about him, save for the serpentine eyes… But even they. They’re warm now. Oh, how I wish to hold him in my arms and…”

\- You make some wicked black tea, angel. I like it. I like it even more after I poured some brandy in it. Do you want the same, ugh, cocktail?

\- I won’t refuse. – Aziraphale answered shyly.

They spent hours, sitting in couches, chatting about different things, relaxed and happy. Crowley was getting a bit drunk and drowsy, and after he took another sip of his Crowley-special-tea, he suddenly said:

\- You remember the war?  
\- Which war?  
\- With the Germans.  
-They were both with the Germans, Crowley.  
\- First one. I had some fancy suits during that one, may 've even kept 'em... The glasses - oh, they were making terrific glasses in Vienna. Wonder what you were wearing back in those days, bet it was something fancy. And white and beige...  
\- I haven't been changing my style that much for a long while. I prefer to be continuous in my habits.  
\- That's right, that's why you're so easy to spot. One can see recognize you from miles away. Friend. – Crowley stopped smiling. - You know, I missed you. Quite a lot, actually. Especially in the beginning of this century.

\- I…I don’t know what to say, Crowley. – Aziraphale felt lost. – I missed you too. But I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me. And when I tried to find you, a couple of times… You weren’t here in London.  
\- Yeah, I was seeing some places... Saint Petersburg, Berlin... Oh, I've seen such things there, you wouldn't believe... There was a cabaret in Berlin, and I knew everyone there. Well, I didn’t mean to. I was renting a room with some woman, and she had a lover, female lover, who was a singer in a cabaret. She practically forced me to go there one night. And I, well… I enjoyed it. The cabaret was run by some Jewish bloke and his wife, then I got to meet their friends, the performers, and before long I they made me dance in a lady's dress, you believe that? I looked ROYAL in that dress, I tell ya!... Royal. Got baskets of roses each night... And champagne... They practically BATHED me in champagne... One night I was carried down the street, all the way back to my place... People carried me, you believe that? Oh, it was fun…

\- And what happened to your friends? Where are they now? – Aziraphale asked.  
…And he immediately regretted his question. But Crowley looked rather sad than irritated by it.  
\- What do you think happened to a cabaret full of Jews, homosexuals and other people who enjoyed carrying me in a dress around the streets after '33 in Berlin, huh? Nothing good!  
  
Crowley fell silent for a moment.  
  
\- I was stupid enough to think I could help some of them. Risked everything to use my abilities to miracle transportation, Belgium sounded great, I thought, some of the Jewish folk had family in Poland, they wanted to come back. To think where I led them... – Crowley lowered his eyes and a side of his mouth twitched in pain.  
\- You didn't know, Crowley, no one knew... – Aziraphale didn’t know what to say not to sound even more tactless.  
\- That sad pug-faced excuse for a prime minister knew. – Crowley said angrily. Aziraphale had known for a long time now that Crowley, for some reason, bore an ill will towards prime minister Churchill. - I should've known. I've been around long enough. Well, didn't matter. By '42 they all... Perished. And only two decent graves out of ten people - the rest ended up in a pile of... Well...

Aziraphale fell silent, astonished.   
  
\- What happened to your friends is terrible. – he finally managed to say - I'm very sorry, Crowley. You shouldn't be so hard on your...  
\- That's what you get from getting attached to humans, angel. – Crowley interrupted him - They die before you're ready. Not that you can ever be ready, but this… It was worse than death. Humiliation. Elimination. Extermination…

\- Is it why you went to Eastern front? – Aziraphale suddenly realized. - To avenge your friends?  
\- How could I avenge them, angel? – Crowley looked up at him, serpentine eyes full of grief. - It wasn’t even living people who killed them, it was a soulless killing factory. No, I'm no avenger. And no good for saving anyone. Damnation, on the other hand, isn't it my job? Trust me, wherever I came, not a single butcher escaped Hell…

\- You saved me. – Aziraphale said softly.  
\- Uughhh, I did. But you wouldn't have died anyway.  
\- Still. And my books.

… And then he regretted that.

\- I didn’t mean to compare my books to your friends… - Aziraphale started.

\- It's fine. At least your books are still here. I swore I'd never get used to or make friends with any human. And you'd better do the same. Stick around your own kind. – Crowley answered, wearily.  
\- Well, I'm not your kind. – Aziraphale heard his own voice as if it was stranger’s.   
\- In a way, you are. We both can't die, not unless this world ends in fire. We both are not particularly hardworking... What, you're not gonna lecture me on the difference between your holiness and my vile nature?   
\- At least, not now. – Aziraphale said and slowly moved from his own Couch to Crowley’s. Crowley didn’t seem to mind it, as he got his legs under himself, so there would be some room for Aziraphale and turned himself face to face with him.   
\- I don’t blame you that much, you have to suffer Gabriel. – Crowley continued. - Of course you want to indulge in some self-righteousness. One thing about being fallen – you’ll never have to see Gabriel again…   
\- You don’t seem to enjoy company of other demons either. – Aziraphale answered, feeling a little dizzy from Crowley’s closeness.  
\- There’s nothing to enjoy. – Crowley flinched.

They both remained silent for some time, looking each other in the eyes. 

  
\- What about my company?, Aziraphale said finally.   
\- Well, here I am. – Crowley said softly.  
\- There’s smoke outside. You’re stuck here.   
\- If I didn’t like it here, little smoke wouldn’t have stopped me from fleeing, don’t you think? I walked a few blocks to be here.

\- So, you’re here because you like it here? – Aziraphale asked with a voice full of hope.  
\- You’re a smart angel. – Crowley smiled.   
Crowley was relaxed, his beautiful slim hands on his lap.

Suddenly, Crowley laid a hand on Aziraphale’s arm.   
\- Why are you hiding your hands, angel? – he asked, looking somewhat worried.  
\- I’m not hiding any…   
Before he could finish, he saw his hand in Crowley’s. He was embarrassed of his own – his fingers were short and plump while Crowley’s were long, thin and beautiful.   
\- You looked scared. Are you scared? Is that the smoke? Come on, take my hand. – Crowley’s voice sounded comforting. – It’ll be fine soon. The smoke will be over.   
“I don’t want it to be over”   
The feeling of Crowley’s hand in his own was warming, and yet made him all too nervous.

\- Angel, come here. I’ll hold you. Come on, I’m your friend. You’re my friend. There’s room for us both if we lie. I heard it’s called “to spoon”. I lie with my back against couch back and you…

Before he could finish, Aziraphale moved and lied with his back pressed against Crowley’s chest. He felt his arms wrapping around him. Crowley’s head was lying higher than his and he planted a gentle kiss on a top of Aziraphale’s head, into the mess of soft blonde hair.  
\- Are you still afraid, angel? – Crowley whispered  
\- I’m… Well… - Aziraphale couldn’t speak. He felt his whole body trembling.  
  
\- It’ll be fine. We’re safe. You’re safe. – Crowley went on whispering.  
\- Crowley…   
But he couldn’t speak any further, so he turned around to be face to face with Crowley. Their eyed were less than an inch away from each other, their noses touched. Aziraphale begged for this damned smoke to cover all England, so they would never have to leave this bookshop. Then a painful thought stroke Aziraphale

\- Oh, Crowley, now I realize... That time in a church... – Aziraphale whispered.  
\- What about it? – Crowley answered in a low voice.  
\- I implied you were a...  
\- Oh, please, we've been over that already, enough... – Crowley sounded annoyed.  
\- But I didn't know they killed all your friends! Oh, I'm such an awful...  
\- You didn't know. Exactly. End of story. Besides, not all my friends were killed. You're alive. – Crowley smiled. - And safe. And in one piece.  
\- I'm angel, after all. Even Hitler himself with his whole army couldn't have destroyed me.  
\- I'd give a 1000£ to see you cutting that bastard in two with a flaming sword or something like! – Crowley laughed quietly, with a kind and sincere smile.  
\- I gave my sword away, remember? – Aziraphale asked teasingly.  
\- You know the most amusing part about you, angel? – Crowley asked with a mischievous smile.  
\- Enlighten me, please.  
\- Each time I propose something, well, slightly illicit, and you go all "How dare you even imply it, vile serpent, be gone evil spirit" on me, I know that's exactly what you've been wanting the whole time yourself. You just needed a demon to spell it out for you, so you won't be the one who came up with the bad, sinful idea. And then you do it, happily, acting like I tempted you and you succumbed. That, angel, is precisely how our arrangement works.  
  
It was so accurate and true, that Aziraphale couldn't find the right words to deny it.  
  
"And what about my feelings for you? Did I also succumb to a temptation? Did you make me fall in love with you with some devilish charm, or was I foolish enough to bring it upon myself? Are you kind to me because you've lost your friends and became more protective of everyone, or is it about us, you and I?"  
\- Actually, I start to enjoy the smog. – Aziraphale said in a low voice. - No customers. We can chat all we want, no hiding, no conspiracy...  
\- I thought you'd be dying without your favorite snacks and deserts and sauces...  
\- I don't really NEED food, Crowley, I just... Enjoy it.  
" Not nearly as much as I enjoy being so close to you. And, unlike food, I do need you".  
\- You know, angel… I think I’m drowsy. Do you mind handing me a blanket?

\- Of course. – Aziraphale leaned to reach a blanket on the other couch and covered Crowley with it, then lied next to him. Crowley closed his eyes.

Aziraphale didn’t know if it was minutes or hours that passes since then

Crowley wasn't asleep. His eyes were closed for most of the time, his breath soft and quiet. Aziraphale lied down next to him, observing his face, his acute features strangely softened as he was dozing.  
\- What you looking at? - Crowley opened his eyes, looking amused.  
\- Nothing, just you. I'll turn away if you...  
\- No, don't.   
Crowley reached his hand and gently stroked Aziraphale's hair. The outer side of his hand then carefully slid down Aziraphale's cheek and landed on the couch.  
\- What are you doing?  
\- Nothing. - Crowley said drowsily. - Angel...

His slim fingers caressed Aziraphale’s face with tender and sleepy gestures. There was a light smile upon his face, as he ran his hand through Aziraphale’s blonde locks.

\- Aziraphale… - Crowley whispered indistinctly. – You’re… Sweet… Good… Angel… So soft…You’re so… So soft…

Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand off his face and gently kissed it. Crowley smiled and closed his eyes.

He seemed to fall asleep. Now he looked as ethereal and celestial as any angel, breathing peacefully with an almost invisible smile. 

Aziraphale gently stood up from the couch not to disturb Crowley’s sleep. He sat closer to a window, where he could see absolutely nothing, and looked at Crowley’s peaceful sleeping figure for hours, as it seemed. But after some time, the smog outside became lighter and lighter. Aziraphale looked outside the window – there was no mistaking.   
  
The rays of light cut through smoke like a knife through fabric. In mere seconds the entire place was filled with sunlight, Crowley's own hair shining with gold and copper. He was still asleep, his face looking stunningly white and peaceful.  
"It's over now".  
"Crowley", he heard himself say with a somewhat alien voice, filled with tears he struggled to hide. "The smog is gone. The sun... The sun is shining".


End file.
